Once Upon A Time
by MegaNerdAlert
Summary: A redux of my previous story titled "Granger Changer". Five years after Voldemort's death, Lucius Malfoy commands the dark forces. War rages on, the Order all but destroyed. Even Hogwarts has fallen. Hermione Granger decides to go back to the 1940's to stop any of it from ever happening. And while she's there, she also hopes to win the heart of the woman she secretly loves. MM/HG
1. Prologue Part 1 - A Time to Live

**Nearly three years ago I uploaded one chapter of a story titled "Granger Changer". I was surprised at the amount of interest, and sadly had not planned the plot out further than what was posted. I've decided to revisit that plot (Don't yell at me, Dueling and Antebellum followers...), and so a few months ago I started plotting it out. I'm still not done with the plotting stage, but I'm a good 60 odd chapters into it...this idea has turned into something rather epic in my head. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'll admit to a self imposed challenge to out-do 'asouldreams' in the "Bonding" story. We shall see how that goes. Anyway, so I'm going to leave the other "Granger Changer" up for a while with a note added to it so people who have shown interest already are aware the project has been rebooted. **

**I've broken the prologue into two parts, so you'll be getting two 'chapters' in one go. Next update will give you the start of the actual story, in which, for those of you who have not read the original "Granger Changer", Hermione travels back in time after the war against Voldemort takes a turn for the worse. Also, there is of course the factor of a certain green eyed witch that our Hermione happens to have a massive thing for. **

**So, without further ado...Granger Changer**

* * *

**MAY 1998:**

The devastation was beyond anything that Hermione could have imagined. The Battle of Hogwarts was over, and Voldemort was dead, but the seemed of little importance as the young witch thought about all the others that were dead as well. Tonks, Lupin, Snape, and Ron were among the dozens lost that day. Hermione and Harry were left to carry on without Ron now, and neither was sure how they would manage.

It had been two weeks since the Battle, and while the Order seemed to have gained to upper hand in the war, no one was certain it was over. Lucius Malfoy had wasted no time after his master hit the ground before calling all the remaining Dark Forces to his side. Death Eaters rallied around the blond man with nearly the devotion they had given to Voldemort himself. It wasn't much different from how the Light forces had rallied to Harry's side after Dumbledore had fallen. Armies need a leader, and most of the time they really don't care who it is, so long as the person who is leading represents their ideals.

Nonetheless, regaining control of Hogwarts had been a big win for the Light, and because of that victory, Hermione was here at Hogwarts today to talk to the Headmistress about the Potions post that needed to be filled. Minerva McGonagall had offered she and Harry honorary Hogwarts diplomas, as both were needed to be more active in the Order than being a full time student would allow. Harry had been selected as second in command, behind Kingsley, for the Order. If one lesson had been learned from Dumbledore's demise, it had been that a lack of a chain of command was a crippling mistake.

For Hermione's part, she had been selected to take over the Potions post. Horace Slughorn had survived the Battle of Hogwarts, but was adamant that he was in no fit state to continue teaching. He'd come back two years ago to teach Potions as a favor to Dumbledore, and had only continued this last year because the Death Eaters had given him no choice in the matter.

"Hello, Hermione," Minerva greeted her soon to be colleague.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione replied with a nod.

"As I keep reminding you, you can call me Minerva," the older which said with a slight smile.

Hermione sighed. "Of course, Minerva. I keep forgetting. I'm just seventeen, I didn't expect to have earned the privilege of addressing you by your given name for at least another four years."

"Four years?" Minerva questioned.

"I'd always planned to come back to Hogwarts to teach, when the war was over. It takes four years to get a Potions Mastery, under normal circumstances. I figured I'd get the Mastery first, before I could address you as a colleague," Hermione explained.

"Well, I guess that War does change things," Minerva replied.

"Do you think it will ever end?" the younger witch wanted to know. "I mean, we got Voldemort, and that was supposed to be it. But it's not because they all follow Mr. Malfoy. If we kill him, wont they just pick someone new to follow?"

Minerva shook her head sadly. "Well they certainly seemed resolved to keep this up. I sometimes wonder when this will cease to be fight to end evil and turn into a true civil war. Lucius isn't all evil, and I fear that more will leave our side for the sake of political favors. Perhaps whoever takes over Lucius' place after we catch him will offer the people a different reason to join the other side. It's easy to change sides once…but getting people to change sides again is nearly unheard of."

Hermione shuddered. "You really think it would come to that?"

"I dearly hope not," Minerva replied, brushing a stray hair away from Hermione's brown eyes.

* * *

**MAY 1999:**

Much to Hermione's dismay, Minerva's dire predictions had proved accurate. A year after the battle at Hogwarts, it was clear that what Voldemort lacked in public appeal, Lucius Malfoy had in spades. The entire Ministry was under his control now, and the ranks of the Order were dwindling.

As usual on a Friday evening, Hermione was headed up to Minerva's office for tea. Those evenings together were their little taste of normalcy. In the last year, Hermione had done a lot of growing up. The war had already matured her in the events leading to Voldemort's death, but this last year had done more to turn her into a woman than her school days had. Hermione believed Minerva was responsible for that, being an example of what a woman needed to be, showing grace under immeasurable pressure.

"Hermione," Minerva greeted the younger witch. "Come in. The tea should be here in a minute."

The Potions Professor stepped into Minerva's personal quarters. "Well, I did it!" Hermione exclaimed with a huff. "Made it through my first year of teaching. Thank Merlin that's over."

Minerva laughed. "It gets easier with each passing year, though now and again you'll get a Fred and George, or a Harry, Ron, and Hermione to deal with."

Hermione giggled. "We never meant to be trouble. It just happened."

"Right," Minerva said slyly. "Polyjuice Potion just 'happened' to blink into existence for the use of a trio of second years."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're just still sore that Ron managed to get through your giant chess set in our first year. You had it out for us at the start of our second year. I'm rather surprised you didn't give us more detentions."

Minerva's eyes sparkled. "There is a maximum of twenty detentions per year allotted before a student looses privileges such as Hogsmeade and Quidditch. If I'd given you three detentions on top of how many Severus was already giving you – well, mostly Harry – then Harry and Ron would have been unable to play Quidditch and I couldn't stand the thought of Slytherin getting the Quidditch cup because of a bit of trouble making."

"I was never on the Quidditch team," Hermione protested. "You could have given me detentions."

"Ah, but I also couldn't stand the thought of punishing my favorite student," Minerva countered with a gentle smile. "It just wouldn't do to tarnish your record."

"Oh Minerva," Hermione sighed. "I know I was a student here only two years ago, but it feels like much longer. It's been quite some time since I looked in the mirror and saw that little girl."

"Honestly, I much prefer the you now," Minerva confessed. "It wouldn't have been proper to have a relationship like this, with you, back then. I'll admit I have been waiting for you to finish growing up for quite a few years. The Yule Ball, yes, that was when I first wished you were older."

"Professor McGonagall, are you admitting to a crush on a student?" Hermione teased, grinning slyly.

Minerva blushed and stuttered. "I only meant…"

Hermione raised her eyebrow, suddenly feeling intrigued by the prospect of her former teacher having more than friendship type feelings for her. After all, she herself was a lesbian and as such, was not freaked out at the older woman's unintentional confession; the confession that she was obviously trying to take back. "Are you a lesbian, Minerva?" the younger woman pressed, feeling quite daring. This was a topic they had never previously discussed. Hermione had never told her friend she herself fancied other women.

"Hermione, I…" Minerva started. "Yes, I am a lesbian. Yes, I may have had a wee bit of a crush on you. But I'm not saying…"

Hermione understood. "Minerva, there are decades between us. I know what it's like to fancy someone in passing, even if you don't believe there's a possibility of it becoming anything more."

Minerva looked relieved. "You do?"

"Of course," Hermione replied. "To be fair, were I much older, or you much younger, then I certainly would have been interested in a relationship with you."

Minerva looked puzzled for a moment. "Are you a lesbian as well?" she finally inquired.

Hermione shrugged, trying to look more nonchalant than she felt. "Yes."

Truthfully, Hermione found that she was ecstatic at the prospect of Minerva fancying her, and ruefully wishing that she was a few years older, because she did know that theirs was too great an age gap for Minerva to even consider, even if she herself realized that she didn't give a flying fuck.

* * *

**MAY 2000**

Hermione sat by the Black Lake under her favorite tree. This place had always been where she went when she needed to think. This year had been hard on her. The war still raged on under the Malfoy flag. He gained more followers every day, and while the Order did get new recruits as well, they seemed to lose them faster than they were gained.

Teaching this year, despite Minerva's promise that it would get better, had been more difficult than her first year. During Voldemort's reign, the political climate had usually been contained in Houses. Most of the Slytherins had been from dark families, and the rest of the students were from families loyal to Dumbedore. Now, however, the arguments were in every house. Gryffindors, Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and even Hufflepuffs fought not only with rival houses, but with each other as well. Only last night Hermione had taken a two Gryffindor fourth years to the hospital wing after they'd gotten into a duel over Merlin knows what. Hermione had heard the word 'traitor' just prior to the older boy firing a _rictemseptra_ curse towards the younger. Where he'd learn that spell she didn't know.

Even worse than the troubles of teaching, Hermione was emotionally drained. It had started at the Millennium Ball. The Ball had taken place at Hogwarts the day after the students returned from Christmas break, to celebrate the arrival of the twenty-first century. Hermione had been absently reminiscing about her conversation with Minerva the previous May about how it was at the Yule Ball that Minerva had developed a crush on her then student. Hermione had not been able to get that conversation out of her head, and quite suddenly as the clock struck midnight, Hermione realized why she'd continued to dwell on Minerva's confession – she'd fallen in love with the older witch.

"Damn," Hermione muttered to herself, thinking about her predicament. In the months since the Millennium Ball, the Potions Professor had fallen into a deep misery that was only momentarily relieved when she saw Minerva, and then warped into excruciating pain until the older woman went on her way. Hermione was beginning to think that she'd rather have the constant ache of not being near Minerva, rather than the nearly juvenile sensation of the world crashing in on her she got when Minerva walked away. Alas, being that she was the Headmistress, it was impossible for Hermione to avoid her for long. She considered resigning, but she knew that was selfish. Despite the difficulty of teaching in this climate, she was needed here, and she would not fail in her duty.

"Hermione!"

The younger woman looked toward the voice that had called her name and immediately let out an exasperated sigh. Of course, Minerva. "Yes, Headmistress?"

Minerva approached the spot her younger colleague was sitting and joined her on the grass. "You know, I'd finally got you to call me 'Minerva', and since the New Year you seem to have reverted back to addressing me by title."

Hermione looked at the grass. "Sorry, old habits die hard, I guess."

"Are you sure nothing's wrong?" Minerva asked.

"Oh course not, Minerva," Hermione said firmly. "Now what did you need?"

For a moment, the older witch seemed to be considering pressing further, but after a bit she pressed forward with what she needed to talk to her Potions Professor about. "The Order is considering closing Hogwarts."

"I'm not surprised," Hermione replied. She wasn't surprised in the least, actually. The student rivalry was getting so bad that half the classes were let out early because of one explosion or another. The students weren't learning a thing.

"You think they're right?" Minerva asked, the hurt evident in her voice.

Hermione looked at her colleague, and carefully considered before answering. On one hand, she honestly didn't see a point to keeping Hogwarts open. On the other hand, despite how unbearable it was to be near the older woman, being without her might constitute torture. On yet another hand, she was Minerva's friend before anything else, and the Gryffindor inside of her knew she needed to stand by the Headmistress. "No, Hogwarts should remain open," she replied finally. "The students may be fighting among themselves, but they have a much better chance of surviving this war if they are kept out of it. These walls are the best protection the Wizarding World has to offer."

A moment later, Minerva's face lit up with a smile, and Hermione didn't know if she was going to die of bliss or agony when Minerva leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek.

* * *

**TBC...**


	2. Prologue Part 2 - A Time to Die

**Part two of the Prologue...**

* * *

**MAY 2001**

It had been a week since the third anniversary of Voldemort's death. That should have been a day of celebration for the Order, but Lucius Malfoy had decided to change all of that. Malfoy and his ever growing forces had stormed Hogwarts and had won the day. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had fallen, burned to the ground. Malfoy hadn't wanted to risk the Order retaking the centuries old school so he had destroyed it. Dozens of students had been killed that day, and Hermione, Minerva, and Filius Flitwick had been the only staff members to survive.

"Minerva?" Hermione said quietly, coming up behind the woman. The older witch was sitting on a large boulder in the middle of the ruin that, a week ago, had been the Great Hall. She was crying.

"Go away," Minerva sobbed.

"No," Hermione replied gently. "Minerva, the last thing I'm going to do is leave you alone, here. You are still my Headmistress, and I am still your Potions Professor. It is my duty to stand by you and Hogwarts."

Minerva turned sharply and gazed and the younger woman, bitterness showing in her tear stained face. "I am not Headmistress, you are not a Professor, because there is not a Hogwarts left to head or teach at. It's all gone! It's over!"

Hermione reached out and touched Minerva's cheek, wiping a few tears away with her finger. She wanted to hold Minerva in her arms and kiss those tears away, but she knew that was not appropriate, now or ever. "The walls of Hogwarts may have fallen, and this site may even be beyond repair, but so long as there are children left in this world to protect and teach, the spirit of Hogwarts will remain. We will rebuild, Minerva. It may take time, but together, we can rebuild Hogwarts."

"Oh, Hermione," Minerva whispered between sobs. "What would I do without you?"

* * *

**MAY 2002:**

Hermione was picking through the year old ruin of Hogwarts for the dozenth time, search for various items to assist in the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Her assessment about this site being beyond repair had been correct – there was just too much spell damage involved. Lucius Malfoy had set Hogwarts to burn in Findyfire. This ground would be scalding to the touch for five years or so before it was even safe to walk around without the type of gear dragon handlers used. Hermione and Minerva had considered waiting till then to rebuild, but in the end decided that this ground had seen too much death. It felt like they would be building a school on a graveyard.

They had elected instead to rebuild the school on the grounds of the McGonagall Estate. Minerva's family property had about six hundred acres. The family Manor only took up a small percentage of that. Minerva had insisted that they could clear some of the land away from the Manor and build the school there, which was what they'd been doing for the past year. Manpower was limited and without a school to run, Hermione, Minerva, and Filius had been contributing the war effort in other ways, leaving little time to work on the school. Kingsley Shacklebolt had not seen rebuilding a school as a priority when Hermione and Minerva had requested that he allot some resources to help them with the project.

However, three months ago he'd been killed, leaving Harry as the head of the Order. Hermione's school day friend had thought differently than his predecessor, and in the last ninety days they had made five times the progress in rebuilding Hogwarts than that had in the nine months prior. The land had been cleared, what would become the lower levels had been cut out of the earth, and then it was time to being laying the foundations. It had been Hermione's idea to go back to Hogwarts and use some of the remaining stone from there to lay the foundation of the new school. Minerva had upped the ante and decided that any construction materials that could be salvaged from the old site would be carted up to the Highlands. The stones for the foundation had been moved by the trainload and yesterday the crew had begun laying them in place.

Today, Hermione was back, surveying what else could be salvaged. A very large pile of non stone rubble and drawn her to where she was now. The mush mash of items had puzzled her at first, until she realized that she was standing in what used to be the Room of Requirement. Everything that any student had ever asked for in that room was lying in a giant heap. Most of it was burned to a crisp and beyond salvageable, but Hermione did pick of a few things that had made it through the destruction intact.

Laying on its side and remarkably intact for an item that had been burned by Findyfire was the Vanishing Cabinet that Draco Malfoy had used to smuggle Death Eaters into the school during her sixth year as a student. Hermione found herself wondering why it had survived and went to investigate further. She carefully touched the door with her gloved hand and pulled. The whole door fell off of the frame and landed on the ground in front of it with a loud thud which echoed through the valley, causing Hermione's heart to beat wildly for a moment. When the surprise wore off, she peered inside what was left of the Vanishing Cabinet.

Covered in dust was a small item which Hermione slowly picked up. A year of ash and dirt fell away to reveal a gold chain with a pendent hanging on the end. Hermione's heart pounded again as she realized exactly what the pendent was – three gold circles surrounding a small hourglass filled with sand – a timeturner.

* * *

**MAY 2003:**

Minerva was in one of her moods. "Blast it!" she snapped. "Blast you Harry Potter! Just like everyone else, power has gone to your head!"

Harry, of course, was nowhere in the vicinity, and Minerva was merely ranting to thin air, about the latest owl the current head of the Order had sent her. Harry was pulling half the people he'd sent to help with the Hogwarts project and putting them on other assignments.

"Min," Hermione said calmly. "I'm sure Harry had a good reason. You know our forces are getting thinner by the day. We will rebuild the school, it just may take a while."

The older which flopped threw the parchment across the room the two women were currently sitting in; the den of McGonagall Manor. Hermione and Minerva, along with the extra help Harry had given them, were staying at the Manor to save travel time between home and, quote unquote, work. Besides, they were all safer here than they would be at their own homes, if they all still had homes to go to.

It had been five years since Voldemort's death now. The war raged on, if that's what it could be called anymore. It seemed to be turning into a grand slaughter. In the last year Lucius Malfoy had stopped focusing on recruitment and started focusing on destroying the remains of the Order, which at this point was less than ten percent of the Wizarding population. Gone were the days where a witch or wizard could consider themselves neutral in the war – you were either with Malfoy or against him, and if you were against him, your life was forfeit.

"Harry's _reason_," Minerva spat, "was stupid and cowardly. He says that we are losing the war, and there's no longer a point to rebuilding a school that Malfoy will just destroy anyway. He only left half the team here to help us 'break down camp', so to speak. He'll pull the rest of them in a week, including ourselves."

Hermione was stunned, not because she disagreed with Harry's assessment of the situation, but because she knew her friend well enough to know that if he indicated to Minerva he felt they were losing the war, then he himself had given up hope. And this was not the time to give up hope.

Time…

Hermione absently fiddled with the gold chain around her neck, the time turner. When she'd found the thing a year ago she'd decided to keep in a secret, fearing that Harry would want to use it to go back and stop this war from even beginning. At the time, the Order made up at least forty percent of the population, and Hermione felt that the tides of the war could easily turn. Each passing day, more members of the Order were hunted down and killed. Of her entire graduating class at Hogwarts, the only ones left were herself, Harry, and Neville Longbottom. The last surviving Weasley, Charlie, had been killed only last week.

Perhaps it was time…

"Min, what if there was a way to fix it?" Hermione said suddenly.

"Fix what?" Minerva asked skeptically.

"All of it," Hermione replied. "Everything. Hogwarts, Pomoda, Severus, Remus, Albus…everyone and everything, back to the way it was."

Minerva crossed her arms and frowned. "The only way to do that would be to go back in time and stop all of this from happening. But you and I both know that is impossible. All the time turners were destroyed in your fifth year."

"Not all of them," Hermione corrected, pulled out the one she had been wearing around her neck for the last year. "I found this at Hogwarts, in what was left of the Room of Requirement."

Minerva's eyes widened. "How long have you had that?"

"About a year," the younger witch replied with a frown. "A year ago I thought there was still hope of things getting better, and you know how tricky it is to meddle with time. I kept it a secret because Harry would have wanted to go back and change things, and he's too rash. He would have probably made things worse."

"Good intentions pave the road to hell," Minerva muttered in agreement. "But now?"

"I think Harry is right," Hermione sighed. "Even if we got Lucius tomorrow, and no one rose to take his place, and somehow things returned to a peaceful existence…more than half the wizarding population has been wiped out in the last five years. Most of those left are purebloods who will continue to intermarry. I fear that at this point, we're looking at the extinction of the wizarding race."

The older witch looked thoughtful for a moment before replying. "Then go," she said finally.

"Go where, when?" Hermione asked. "I used the time turner at school but we're talking about inserting myself into history without polluting the timeline and making things go a way they were never meant to be."

Minerva shrugged. "Anything is better than, as you pointed out, extinction. I would not suggest purposely changing things to suit your desires, but if something happens, it can't possibly have a worse effect than how things are now."

"I'd have to get a job, support myself, not to mention blend into the timeline and not get caught by the Ministry."

Minerva pursed her lips. "Go back to the forties, when Riddle was still in school. Going back further than that will put you at a disadvantage, not knowing who and what to expect. If I remember Albus' notes correctly, it was in forty-five that Merryweather retired from his long held Defense Against the Dark Arts post. You could take that post. I'd rather learn Defense from you than the seven difference professors I had during my schooling."

"You won't even be of Hogwarts age in forty-five," Hermione pointed out.

"I'll be nine. I started my first year in forty-seven."

Hermione suddenly realized that the conversation had left hypothetical and turned into planning. "You really think I should do this?"

"Hermione, I'm too old, and this hardly seems a task to announce to the order in search of volunteers," Minerva frowned.

"You're not old…" Hermione insisted.

"I'm too old to return to nineteen forty five and still be alive long enough to see this task through. You, at twenty three, have a fairly good chance of living through the timeline and up to the point of what we currently consider the present," Minerva explained. "And you will have lived a good long life, perhaps even found love and had a family."

Hermione didn't say what she was thinking – that she would always and only ever love Minerva. It briefly occurred to her that when Minerva 'grew up', there might be a chance of them getting together after all. The idea seemed ever so cliché, to think that she was going back in time for the chance to be with the woman she could not be with now…but that was not the priority. "Dippet is still Headmaster in the forties, right?" she asked.

"Correct. Albus didn't take over the post till fifty six," Minerva answered.

"Right then," Hermione sighed.

"Go, Hermione," Minerva urged.

"Now?"

"Yes now," Minerva said with a smile. "Before I change my mind and disagree with you about this being a good idea."

Hermione lifted up the time turner and held it into view. "Last chance to stop me," she whispered.

"Go," Minerva whispered.

And as the time turner spun and Hermione began to feel the familiar tug, the last thing in two thousand three that she saw was Minerva's face, smiling at her. "I will fix this," she promised, and a moment later she was gone.

* * *

**Please review! They make me type faster...  
**


	3. Chapter 1 - A Time to Search

**Well, here we go, the official chapter one! A note...I have done my very best to keep with Pottermore and Harry Potter Wiki dates and such, but there are some things that needed altered in order to better develop the plot of this story. I'm saying this now because as the story progresses, I don't want to get reviews with people saying "But so-and-so didn't start Hogwarts till THIS year!"...Anyhow, normal disclaimers apply, please enjoy the read.**

* * *

**August 1944:**

One unforgivable and two memory charms – that was what it took for Hermione Granger to successfully insert herself into the timeline in August of nineteen forty four. She'd been aiming for forty five, but traveling back this far in time was tricky enough that there was bound to be some variance. Hermione was simply grateful that she'd gotten this close to her intended date.

She'd had to use the Imperio curse on Professor Kettleburn, to convince him that he had some dire need to retire a year earlier than planned, and thus leaving the Headmaster, Armando Dippet, in quite a pickle to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts post less than a month before term was to begin. Conveniently, he would bump into a young Professor looking for that very job, on the very next evening. Hermione's first memory charm was on Dippet, to convince him that he'd already seen her credentials, and then once she was at the castle, she performed a second memory charm on Professor Slughorn to convince him that they were previously acquainted. Horace Slughorn, her own former Potions Professor, was currently only in his forties, and much to Hermione's dismay, had only waited a week into her employment at Hogwarts before his first attempt to woo her. The bloody term hadn't even begun.

"Professor Slughorn, how nice to see you," Hermione said as the man took a seat next to her in the Staff Room.

"Call me Horace, please," the Potions Professor insisted. "We are, after all, colleagues. No need to be so formal, Hermione."

Hermione forced a smile, thinking of how Minerva had said nearly the same thing to her, though with much purer intentions. "Of course, Horace. What can I help you with?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Horace replied with a wave. "I was just checking to see how you were settling in."

"I'm settling in just fine," Hermione responded. "It feels like I've come home." Oh, and it did feel like home to Hermione. It had been so hard before to see Hogwarts as nothing more than a ruin. To be back in the castle when it was all put together and grander than she'd ever seen it, well, it was a level of peace she hadn't felt in years. _I wish Min could see this,_ she thought to herself.

The identity Hermione had fabricated for herself had fit perfectly with her plan to plant Slughorn with a memory in which he knew her. She'd been searching the missing persons records the day she'd arrived in this time and found two school mates of his that had gone missing shortly after their graduation. It was speculated that the pair – a Slytherin boy and a Gryffindor girl – had run off together because their parents would not allow them to marry. She'd elected to call them her parents in this timeline. She told Dippet and Slughorn that they had indeed run off together, abandoning their families and their wizarding life, years later had her, and that when she had returned to the wizarding world she'd changed her surname to Granger in an effort to keep the media at bay. This identity also worked in her favor in the regard that it labeled her as a pureblood. The current political climate was fairly calm, but Hermione knew that it would not stay that way.

"Horace," Hermione said, "I'm afraid I need to attend to my lesson plans, if you'd excuse me."

Slughorn nodded curtly and Hermione took her leave of the Staff Room, electing to return to her office where she'd be less likely to be interrupted. She did, after all, need to work on her lesson plans. Term was set to begin in two weeks, and she was not accustomed to teaching Defense. She had lessons all set for Potions, but that was not her subject to teach in the here and now.

* * *

**September 1944:**

The holiday was over, the term had begun. Hermione sat the high table in the Great Hall and watched the students file in for breakfast, keeping her eyes peeling for various faces she knew she would recognize. The first student to stick out to her had been the sixth year Slytherin, Abraxas Malfoy. Hermione wondered if Draco had known just how much he looked like his grandfather. The second student to stick out was her own dear friend, Hagrid. He was only a third year now. A memory flashed in Hermione's mind when she saw the half-giant, recalling that he was expelled in his third year as a result of being blamed for opening the Chamber of Secrets. She quickly scanned the crowd below and found the sixth year Tom Riddle. Yes, that would be the first thing she would change. Hagrid was not getting expelled if she had a thing to do with it.

Hermione continued searching the student body and found a few more third years she knew. Along with Hagrid, she noticed a young Pomoda Sprout. She also saw a girl she knew as a ghost, Myrtle. She had no idea what the girl's surname was, but decided that she would also make an effort to prevent the girl's death this year. The final face she picked out was not one she recognized per say, but the familiar dark eyes and stormy demeanor identified Eileen Prince – the girl who would grow up to mother her former Professor, Severus Snape.

Of the staff, the only person besides Slughorn that she'd known in her own time was Cuthbert Binns, though the History of Magic Professor was still living now. Hermione couldn't recall ever knowing what year the man died and became a ghost, but she doubted it would be too long from now. He looked much the same in his live form as she remembered him as a ghost. Oh, and of course there was Albus Dumbledore. Hermione had decided pretty quickly that she would do her best to avoid much interaction with her former Headmaster. He was too clever to not find the holes in her conjured identity, and she wasn't certain she could trust him to keep her secret. She wanted to trust him, but the Dumbledore she had known had been the type with good intentions that when his plans went awry, the results were disastrous. She just couldn't afford to trust him until she was more established here.

It occurred to Hermione that she really ought to cultivate a friendship with Slughorn, like it or not, for the simple sake of getting information. There was only so much she could find out about current and recent events on her own. She planned to go this weekend to the Ministry and spend some time studying the last few years' worth of Daily Prophets, but that would only take her so far. Granted, the persona she'd constructed had a very legitimate excuse to be out of the loop when it came to current and recent events.

"Horace?" Hermione said, leaning toward the man sitting next to her. "Word in the castle is that you have a gift for picking out the best students. Care to point some of them out to me?"

Horace gave a goofy grin. "Well, I haven't had a chance to evaluate the new crop, first years that is, but I can point out who's who for second to seventh years."

Hermione nodded for him to continue.

"For the second years, there's only a couple that stuck out to me, thought I usually don't see a student's full potential till at least third year," Horace began. "Of the second years, you've got Aaron Potter of Gryffindor…"

Hermione smirked, recognizing Harry's grandfather's name.

"…and from Ravenclaw there's Thomas O'Mally – muggleborn but an exceptionally talented boy. Podoma Sprout is a third year Hufflepuff. She is becoming quite the Herbologist, I daresay we can expect great things from her. Eileen Prince is one of my Slytherins, and my star Potions pupil. Has some issues with her parents, as I understand it, and I do fear that will be her undoing."

"What's wrong with her parents?" Hermione inquired, hoping for some insight on the woman who she knew would mother her own Potions Professor.

"Oh, nothing really. They're Purebloods, but they live very close to a muggle neighborhood," Horace explained. "Eileen enjoys spending time with the muggle children during her holiday breaks, and her parents disapprove. Imagine if she fell in love with a muggle boy down the road! The Prince's would probably disown her, despite that she's their only child."

"I see," Hermione nodded.

"Anyway," Horace said, waving off what he obviously felt was a distasteful direction to take the conversation. "In the fourth year group, there's really no one to speak of I'd take much interest in. Fifth year you've got Tyranus Black of Slytherin. His best subject is Defense, so I'm sure you'll enjoy having him in class. Also fifth year is Cecelia Lastrange, of Hufflepuff…"

Hermione had to hold back a snort of laughter at that one. A relative of Bellatrix Lastrange, or at least of her husband's family, in Hufflepuff.

"…sixth year I've got two in my own house of particular interest. Abraxis Malfoy is brilliant at anything he sets his mind to, with the exception of Care of Magical Creatures," Horace beamed. "Also, Tom Riddle, an orphan boy here on scholarship. He grew up in a muggle orphanage, though with his talent, I would not be surprised if at least one of his parents, probably his mother being that Riddle is not a Wizarding name, was magical. Of the seventh year class, the Head boy, Cornelius Fudge is worthy of note. He's a Hufflepuff, though his parents were both of Slytherin House. He seems to have a knack for politics, though he's intent on becoming an Auror. Perhaps in time he'll work his way of the ladder. The Head Girl is a Gryffindor named Tia Bagshot. She's a niece of the noted historian, Bathilda Bagshot of course…"

"What is Bathilda Bagshot working on these days?" Hermione interrupted. She knew that _History of Magic_ was set to be published in another two years. She was curious to know if the Wizarding world knew that she was writing it.

"Oh, the Prophet mentioned she's writing a book, finally," Horace replied. "For years I've told her that she aught to write a history book instead of just studying. No reason she shouldn't pass on her lifetime of researching."

"You know her?" Hermione asked, interested.

"Oh, of course," Horace replied with a smile. "We were at Hogwarts together – she was a few years ahead of me, but we connected after graduation – fellow intellects absolutely must stick together, you know – and have kept in touch since. Last word I had, she has an agreement with a publisher to get the book out by the end of next year. I intend to recommend the text to Cuthbert for use in his class. Of all the things that man is, organized is not among them. His teaching has always been sporadic. It's a wonder than any students who he's taught in the last sixty years or so got an interest in the subject at all."

Hermione smiled. "Perhaps some people just have a love for history that poor instruction has no impact on."

"Perhaps," Horace agreed. "You know, speaking of Bathilda, the last letter she sent me, she had inquired if I would be willing to help her do some research on the history of Hogwarts. I was going to agree, but if you have a particular interest in History, perhaps I could recommend she speak to you about assisting her."

Hermione smiled, instantly thinking about the work she knew Bathilda would write, her favorite of the noted Historian's works; _Hogwarts: A History_. She found herself remembering little things that had been missing from the text, in her opinion anyway, and found that it made sense that things like the existence of House Elves at Hogwarts had never been mentioned, if Horace Slughorn had been the research assistant to help Bathilda in Hermione's timeline.

"I'd like that," she replied. It really did appeal to Hermione to contribute to a better version of _Hogwarts: A History_, which the future she was here to alter could greatly benefit from. Oh, how Harry would get a kick out of that…

And quite suddenly Hermione remembered that the Harry she knew would never exist, because the things she had to change would affect him most of all. She would never share little things like this with him, because for all intents and purposes, she'd killed her best friend the minute she picked up that time turner. A great sorrow and guild crashed over her and after quickly making an excuse as to why she needed to leave the table, Hermione ran to the nearest bathroom and threw up her breakfast. She spend the next hour crying in her office, mourning the loss of her best friend, and all the other people she'd known that may not exist, or not exist the way she remembered them, in this timeline.

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	4. Chapter 2 - A Time to Find

**Hey guys! Just a little bit of a note to give you an idea of what to expect, plot progression wise. I will be doing a 'section' for ten of the twelve months in a year. I will not (at this point anyhow) have 'sections' for July and August, or June and July, depending on the year I'm working on. Summer months. I do plan on skipping years now and then. The first jump you can expect will be from August of '46, to August of '51. This skips most of Minerva's early years at Hogwarts. I am warning you right now I don't plan on anything sordid happening till Minerva comes of age, which will be October of '52. (Something to look forward to!) Also, I will be posting two months per chapter for the most part. That all said, please enjoy Oct/Nov of 1944.**

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**October 1944:**

It took Hermione more than a month in what she considered the past before she found the time to take a trip to Diagon Ally for some personal shopping. When she'd arrived, she'd gotten just enough clothing to get by, but wearing the same two sets of robes day in and day out was getting tiresome. She got dressed on Saturday morning and was out the door by nine. She'd explored Diagon Alley a bit before going into any shops, and then made a stop at Gringot's to open a bank account. That in itself took longer than expected, and by the time she actually began shopping it was nearly noon time.

As Hermione came out of Madam Black's Robe Shop, a store which had not been around in her own time, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a pair of familiar eyes. "Minerva?" she gasped, unable to hold her tongue.

A tall woman with dark hair and brilliant green eyes, about forty, turned and looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized quickly. "You look a good deal like a woman I once knew. My mistake, ma'am."

"You called me Minerva?" the woman inquired, looking interested.

"Yes, that was her name," Hermione explained. "You could be sisters."

"That is rather interesting," the woman said with a smile, "as my daughter's name is Minerva also."

"Oh really?" Hermione asked. "Perhaps the woman I knew is of some relation to your family."

"Possibly," the woman shurggled. "The McGonagall line goes back quite a ways. Or rather, if this woman looks like me, you'd be talking about the Potter line."

"Potter?" Hermione said, surprised. At this point she'd concluded internally that she was talking to _her _Minerva's mother, though she couldn't give away that she now understood why this woman's appearance was so like the Minerva she'd known. However, the fact that Minerva's mother had been born a Potter was not something Hermione had been aware of. She wondered why Minerva had never mentioned that she and Harry were related. She wondered how closely. "I teach a Potter," she continued. "Aaron Potter."

"Oh you're the new Hogwarts Professor! Professor Granger!" the McGonagall woman exclaimed. "Aaron is my sister's son, and has already written to tell us all about you. Something about scaring the class half to death the first day by shouting _'constant vigilance!'_. He says that when you teach it sounds as if you've actually experienced it all, like you've lived through a war."

Hermione chuckled, thinking about her decision to take a leaf out of Allistor Moody's book of teaching Defense. Of course she could not tell Mrs. McGonagall that she had indeed lived through a war, so she considered her fabricated personal history for an explanation before answering. "I grew up in the jungles of South America," she said. "Lots of wild animals who would eat you for supper down there."

"Oh my!"

"Mum, when are we getting cake?"

Hermione looked downward and saw a small girl with dark hair and striking green eyes not unlike the woman she'd been just speaking to. Hermione couldn't help but notice other familiar features too. The Scottish accent must have come from her father's side of the family. At, according to Hermione's calculations, age nine, the younger Lady McGonagall was already wearing glasses and she was a bit taller than most children her age. "You must be Minerva," Hermione said softly.

"Yes," the girl replied stiffly. "And you are?"

"Manners young lady!" her mother chastised.

"I am Hermione Granger," she replied. "I will be one of your Professors when you come to Hogwarts in a few years."

A man carrying a small boy came into view a moment later and approached the trio. "There you are, dear," he said. "Who is this?"

"Oh, this is Professor Granger, the new Defense teacher of Aaron's up at Hogwarts - "

"Please, call me Hermione," the younger witch interrupted.

"Of course, and you must call me Isobel. This is my husband, Robert McGonagall, and our son, Malcolm. You already know this is Minerva." Isobel introduced her family and Hermione shook hands with both her and Robert, before she turned and offered her hand to young Minerva.

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said to the girl.

Minerva, who had previously been looking very sourly at her, changed her tune and took Hermione's hand, grinning ear to ear. Hermione suspected that she was pleased to be treated in such a grown up way. That would be something the Minerva Hermione had known might have done as a child.

Hermione glanced up at the boy Robert was holding. Malcolm. Minerva had seldom mentioned her parents, and had never mentioned any siblings or other relations. She knew from talking to Harry that He was the last Potter, so she figured that in the time between now and then, Isobel and her sister, the mother of Aaron Potter, must have all died, along with any family that Aaron had and any other Potters that Isobel had not mentioned. Hermione resolved to keep an eye on the McGonagall family, as well as the Potters. It occurred to her that she ought to start a list, charmed of course so no one else could read it, as to what she wanted to change and when she needed to step in to make those chances happen. She knew that the cause and effect aspect of things could create a future nothing like the one she'd left. Imagine, if Severus Snape had not been raised in an abusive home, perhaps Lily Evens would have ended up with him rather than James Potter. Harry might have been Harry Snape. Anyway, those were all things to think about later.

"I'm glad to have met you all," Hermione said politely, "however I'm afraid I really must finish my shopping and get back to the school. Homework doesn't grade itself, after all."

Isobel and Robert both nodded in understanding. "We'll let you get to that then," Isobel said. "Besides, I doubt Minerva will wait much longer for her cake."

"It's my birthday," the young Minerva announced. "I'm nine. Two more years and I'll be at Hogwarts."

"Perhaps I will see you again before then," Hermione suggested kindly. She turned back to Minerva's parents and nodded politely. "Isobel, Robert, a good day to you."

"You as well!" they replied in union, as she turned and walked away, doing her very best to make it out of sight before she began grinning like a school girl. Nine year old or not, Hermione was very glad to have seen Minerva today. She knew it would be some time before she could even think of seeing Minerva the way she wanted to, but in the past – or future depending on how you looked at it – she had been able to be merely friends with the woman, and she could certainly do that again.

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**November 1944:**

Hermione looked over her class schedule; Monday at nine: First Year Gryffindor and Slytherin. Monday at eleven: Forth year Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Monday at one: Seventh year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

Tuesday at nine: Second year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Tuesday at eleven: third year Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Tuesday at one: Fifth year Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

Wednesday at nine: First year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Wednesday at eleven: Fifth year Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Wednesday at one: Seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Thursday at nine: Second year Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Thursday at eleven: Forth year Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Thursday at one: Sixth year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

Friday at nine: Third Year Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Friday at eleven: Sixth year Slytherin and Gryffindor. She did not have a one 'o' clock class on Fridays, which meant that after lunch she was free for the weekend, barring other commitments as the Headmaster assigned.

Today was Friday, and Hermione was certainly glad of that. She was ready for the weekend, but more than that, Friday happened to be the day where she had most of the students she wanted to keep an eye in in her classes. Her first period class, which she realized she best head down for soon, included Podoma Sprout and Eileen Prince. Her eleven 'o' clock class included Abraxis Malfoy and Tom Riddle. For some reason, knowing ahead of time what Riddle would become and he not having a clue that she knew his plans, made Hermione feel like super spy, much like the James Bond films that some muggles watched.

Hermione set a brisk pace toward her classroom, taking care to peek around the corners she came to with a small mirror she kept on her person at all times. She knew Riddle would open the Chamber of Secrets any day now, and the last thing she wanted to do was come all this way, nearly sixty years into the past, and die by basilisk before she could do anything to change how history had unfolded. _That would be ironic_, Hermione muttered to herself.

She arrived in her classroom to find Eileen already there, along with a couple others. The third year Slytherin was nearly always early for Hermione's class, though the Defense Professor thought it had more to do with the girl being an early riser than it did with her having a particular interest in Defense. Potions was Eileen's thing, and Hermione hoped to cultivate a relationship with the girl based on that mutual interest. "Good morning, Miss Prince."

"Morning Professor Granger," Eileen replied politely.

Hermione reached into her bottomless bag – oh that thing had served her faithfully – and pulled out this month's edition of _Potioneer_. She knew that her parents did not give her a subscription to the magazine and she knew that Horace was not remotely thoughtful enough to lend the girl his copy. "Here," she said, handing the article to the dark haired Slytherin. "See that I get it back when you've finished reading it."

Eileen looked like she'd been hit by a stunner. "Th-thank you, Professor Granger."

"Not a problem," Hermione smiled, watching other students file in. "Actually, if you like, you can hold on to that one till next month's comes in, and then I'll trade you. That will give you plenty of time to study the articles. I think you'll find the essay about the new potion called Skelagrow of particular interest. It really is fascinating to think about – a potion that regrows bones that have been removed via spell damage. You'd think that they'd come up with a more original name, however."

Eileen giggled, obviously more at ease with the idea of her Defense Professor lending her a Potions magazine now that she was over the shock. "Sounds interesting," she replied. "And I would really appreciate that – you lending me your copy month to month. My parents don't really like that I actually want a career as a Potions Mistress. They just plan to marry me off when I'm of age, you know."

"One never knows what the future will bring, Miss Prince," Hermione replied kindly. "Finish growing up before you make any rash decisions, alright?"

"Yes ma'am," Eileen replied.

Moments later, a scream could be heard down the hall. By now, most of her students for this class had filed in and were seated. "Remain seating, all of you!" Hermione ordered.

Without further word Hermione rushed out of the classroom and toward the direction from which the scream had come. She saw Podoma Sprout, who had been heading toward her class, but her sigh of relief only lasted a few seconds. Laying on the floor at Podoma's feet was Thomas O'Mally – the second year Ravenclaw that Horace had pointed out to her at start of term. The boy was still as a statue and pale as a ghost.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione sent a Patronus to the Headmaster, and another one to Albus. "Miss Sprout," she whispered after a moment. "Please go to the class room and tell the others that class has been canceled for the day. Return to your dormitories without any detours and wait for your respective Heads of House to arrive. Tell any students you pass along the way to do the same."

Podoma nodded mutely and hurried off to do as Hermione had requested. Now a minute later, Albus arrived. "This is a strange condition for find a student in," he said calmly after examining the boy laying on the ground."

"He has been petrified, Albus," Hermione whispered. "There are very few things that could do this."

"But you have a theory," Albus stated, knowing she did.

Hermione nodded. "The beast which Salazar Slytherin left behind has awoken. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened."

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	5. Chapter 3 - A Time to Hide

**Here's another chapter! Up next, "A Time to Seek". *scurries off to get writing***

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**December 1944**

It was nearly Christmas, but the usual Christmas cheer was gone form Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets was open and no one but Hermione knew who had done it and why. Granted, Christmas being of less than ideal cheer was nothing new to the young witch. The last proper Christmas that Hermione remembered having was the winter of her fifth year. The war was already looming in front of them by that time, but Mr. Weasley had just defied death, Sirius was still alive, and the power that Voldemort was gaining had been minimal at that point. It was a good year, despite the climate. Back then she hadn't thought so but in retrospect, it was the last good holiday she'd had.

Hermione had realized after rashly telling Albus that the beast with in the Chamber had awoken that she could not say any more without giving everyone a clue that she was from the past. This early in her new life, it would be unwise to give people any reason to question the truth of her origins. Everything Hermione did to change the timeline had to be carefully considered; every major thing, and minor thing.

The one thing she knew she could do that would better the timeline was prevent Hagrid's expulsion. Not only would it save her dear friend a lifetime of injustice, it would also illuminate Tom Riddle's 'fall guy'. As far as Hermione knew, there were no other students in the school who would bring an illegal animal in.

"Mr. Hagrid," Hermione said, approaching the half-giant third year in an empty corridor. She'd been waiting for a chance to speak to him alone.

"Yeah Professor?" Hagrid replied warily, obviously getting the feeling that he was in trouble.

"I wanted to talk to you about Aragog," Hermione said quietly.

Hagrid took a step back. "How did you…?" he gasped. "I swear Professor, Aragog is harmless! He aint attacking the students!"

Hermione put her hand on Hagrid's elbow – as his shoulder was too high to reach. "I do not believe Aragog is responsible for the attacks, Mr. Hagrid," she assured him. "But I doubt many others would be as open minded about a giant spider in the castle at the same time students are being attacked."

Hagrid hung his head and sniffled. "What should I do?"

Hermione loved that Hagrid was as humble and quick to accept advice as a child, as he was later on in life. She was truly looking forward to seeing what kind of Wizard he'd become, with the freedom to continue his education. "I happen to know that Professor Kettleburn is open minded and fair. I think that if you talked to him about Aragog, he'd be willing to help you find a safe location for your pet, outside of the castle."

Hagrid nodded. "Are you going to tell Professor Dippit about Aragog?"

Hermione shook her head. "As long as you promise to get your pet out of the castle before the holiday break, I will not say a thing."

Hagrid smiled in relief. "You have my word, Professor Granger," he assured her. "I'll go talk to Professor Kettleburn straight away."

"There's a good lad," Hermione nodded.

She wanted as Hagrid bounded away and again her mind drifted off to what she could and could not do to the timeline. She was sure that Kettleburn would help Hagrid, so that problem was taken care of.

The only other major thing on her list to take care of this year was to prevent Myrtle Langer from getting killed. How she was going to go about that, Hermione had no idea, but she figured she aught to start by getting to know the muggleborn girl. Brain ticking, the Defense Professor whisked down the hall toward the staffroom. Upon passing a large mirror, it surprised Hermione to realize that her gait was not unlike a certain Defense Professor of hers; Severus Snape.

"Well that's funny," she commented to herself.

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**January 1945**

Hermione was glancing at her _'to do in this timeline'_ list when her third year Slytherin and Hufflepuff class began to file in, her first class with them since the students had returned from Christmas break.

_ Prevent Myrtle's death._

_ Try to change the Malfoy's opinion about muggleborns._

_ Prevent Remus Lupin from getting bitten by werewolf. _

_ Save Harry's parents_

_ Save Neville's parents_

_ Prevent Sirius from going to Azkaban_

_ Save Albus_

Hermione realized that she could save most of the people she wanted to save by preventing Voldemort's second rise. The simplest way to do that would be to destroy all the horcruxes prior to Voldemort's attack on Godric's Hallow, but that would mean allowing Lily Potter to die for her son, which Hermione did not want to happen. She might be able to make it so James was not home that night, so Harry would at least have his father. Or if not that, preventing Neville's parents from being tortured into insanity would be enough – Harry had told her once that Alice Longbottom was his godmother. Granted, preventing Sirius' incarceration would ensure Harry had a godfather too. At the least, Hermione wanted to assure that Harry would grow up in a loving home, either with his own parents, or with Sirius or Alice. She'd have to ponder more about a way to save Lily and James, while still ensuring Voldemort's end. There had to be a way to have her cake and eat it too.

The classroom door closed behind the last student and Hermione banished her note to her quarters before standing to address the class. "Today," she began, "We will be learning about basilisks."

She spent half hour on a lecture about basilisks. She told the class about the anatomy, about how they could be directed by use of parseltongue, and about how while looking to a basilisks eyes would kill you, only seeing a reflection would leave you merely petrified – a condition that unlike death, could be reversed.

"If you thought a basilisk was nearby, what could you do to protect yourself?" she asked the class.

Eileen Prince raised her hand slowly.

"Yes, Miss Prince?"

"If you were in a place with corners, such as here at Hogwarts, you could carry a mirror to look ahead, only seeing a reflection rather than the basilisk itself."

"Very good," Hermione smiled, "Ten points to Slytherin. Any other ideas?"

The rest of the class was consumed with students offering ideas about how to protect themselves in case a basilisk was near – some good ideas, some she doubted would be effective. One of the Hufflepuffs, a boy who Hermione knew excelled in Charms, suggested wearing glasses that were charmed like a mirror on the outside, and glass on the inside. Hermione was fairly certain that the boy was muggleborn, as she knew of such one way glass being used in muggle police stations and the like. Hermione gave ten points to Hufflepuff for the idea, and hoped that the boy would use his own idea and be kept safe in the coming months.

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After classes Hermione headed to the Staff Room for the weekly meeting. "Professor Granger, good to see you," Horace greeted her.

"Professor Slughorn," she replied with a curt nod, taking her seat.

The rest of the staff filed in within a few minutes, and the Headmaster got right to business. "I am considering closing Hogwarts," Dippet said frankly. "At least until the Chamber of Secrets can be found and sealed for good."

"That's ridiculous," Professor Kettleburn exclaimed. "With all the dark activity going on, the children are no more safe at home than they are here."

Beery nodded in agreement. "Headmaster, all due respect, but I agree with Silvanus. At least for now, anyway. We have not exhausted all are options for containing the situation yet."

"I have a theory as to what the beast may be," Hermione chimed in. She hesitated to give them the lead they needed, because it risked her exposure, but she felt she'd come up with an adequate excuse for why she had the knowledge."

"Do tell!" Silvanus exclaimed, obviously curious and probably hopeful it was something he'd never run across before. The man really was 'mental', as Ron would have put it, when it came to dangerous creatures.

"I had a friend years ago who spoke Parseltongue," Hermione began. "We talked about Salazar Slytherin in great depth, and the Chamber of Secrets came up a few times. He believed that the beast in the Chamber was a basilisk. I noticed recently that the castle seems to have become void of all spiders, and if you are familiar with basilisk lore at all, you'd know that spider fear the basilisk above all else."

Silvanus, obviously trying hard to contain his glee at the prospect of a basilisk in the castle, nodded. "Yes, Hermione is correct about the spiders. I recently spoke to an acromantula, and while he would not name the creature, he did say that it was no longer safe for his kind at Hogwarts. I think our new Defense Professor is on to something."

"I believe that this theory warrants investigation, "Albus said seriously. "If Professor Granger is correct, than we may be able to kill the beast before it kills anyone. For now, students have only been petrified. That is not irreversible. I believe Herbert is working on a mandrake crop?"

Beery nodded. "They should be mature in a few weeks, and then Horace can make the Potion to restore the petrified students."

The Headmaster looked around at his staff and finally nodded. "Very well, carry on with this line of research. However, if a student parishes, I will have no choice but to close the school."

"What step at a time, Armando," Albus said.

Hermione could tell the Dippet was annoyed that none of his staff had agreed with his idea, but he could hardly go against all of them on something this big. "Dismissed," he said curtly.

As Hermione was exiting the Staff Room, Albus came up behind her. "I noticed a few third year students, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins mostly, carrying around mirrors this afternoon. That's rather curious, isn't it?"

To most, that comment would have seemed like small talk, something not unusual to hear, but Hermione knew Albus Dumbledore quite well, and was certain he would not have made that comment directly to her without a purpose.

He was on to her.

Damnit.

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